


(Sterling) Silver Tongue

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Appearances by other Leafs, Background Relationships, Chirping, Fluff, Humor, I just think Willy using pick up lines is hilarious, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Leafs show up, Some homophobic language (In the chirping), Willy is Pining like WOAH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: An arm around his waist stops him along the edge of the crowd.“Come here often?”The sharp retort dies on his tongue as he recognizes the voice, then the body that’s curled around his own.“Does that line ever work?”
Relationships: Zach Hyman/William Nylander
Comments: 14
Kudos: 244





	(Sterling) Silver Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time posting from my new laptop so if there's any strange errors I blame it on it...Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own (and my laptop), don't own. 
> 
> There's a tiny bit of homophobic language where another character is chirping the boys during a game. 
> 
> Stay safe <3

“I’ll grab your bag for you.” Zach watches, bemused, as Willy sweeps in and hefts his gear bag over his shoulder like it only weighs a few pounds, before grabbing his own. He starts a determined march out to the bus, despite swaying to the left occasionally, when one of the bags shifts and his balance is thrown off. Zach watches the way his biceps bulge through the material of his blue Leafs shirt and tries to decide between appreciation and suspicion.

“Okay, what did you do?” Willy is waiting for him at the bus when he catches up, all sweet innocent smiles and sparkling blue eyes.

“Nothing,” he gestures for Zach to lead the way. “Why would you think that?” 

“You never carry my gear.” Most of the guys are already on board, ready to head back to the hotel for lunch and afternoon naps, pregame rituals before they play the Pens that night. He heads for a seat towards the middle and Willy follows. They don’t have set seats per se, but most days finds Willy with Kappy or Auston, or his headphones on and sitting by himself. Today he follows Zach, sliding into the aisle seat next to him like it’s always been his. Zach tries not to preen a little at the sudden attention. He knows it means Willy probably puked in his dress shoes again or something, but before he finds out what chaos Willy caused, he’s going to enjoy it.

“Maybe I’m just being a gentleman,” Willy shoots back. He pulls out his phone but doesn’t look at it, just turns it over and over in his hands, restless. 

“You could just tell me,” he suggests. “Get it over with.” 

“Okay,” Willy takes a deep breath. “Let’s go out for dinner when we get back home.” 

Zach rolls his eyes.

“Is your wallet magically going to disappear again?” 

“Hey! I told you I didn’t mean to forget it!” The disbelieving look he levels Willy with speaks volumes. “And what kind of a guy would I be if I asked you to dinner and didn’t pay?” 

“Is he talking about forgetting his wallet again?” Kappy drops into the seat across the row from them.

“No,” Willy says as Zach chimes in, “Yes.” 

“Kappy, shouldn’t you be back in your seat?” Willy jerks his head towards the back of the bus.

“I kinda spilt Red Bull on the seats,” he winces, guilty. “Thought I’d come and see what you two were up to.” 

“You’re a menace.” Zach tells him fondly. He has no doubt that Kappy’s going to be stuck cleaning the bus when they get back to the hotel. There’s been a no food/drink rule since Mitch and his taco’s two years ago. 

“Kappy,” Willy says again, pointedly. From what Zach can see he’s staring Kappy down intensely. “Remember that thing I told you I was going to do?” 

There’s a pause as Kappy clearly wracks his brain for whatever it was- he can see the moment he remembers, eyes going hilariously wide. His gaze darts from Willy to Zach and back again.

“Now?” His jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“Yes!” Willy sighs, exasperated. 

“Oh shit! Sorry, man!” Kappy lurches to his feet but the bus starts rolling and it sends him catapulting back down. 

“Stop walking around!” Keefe calls back. “I don’t want any broken hockey players before the game tonight.”

“What about after?” Someone calls back.

“Please just try to stay in one piece,” Keefe sighs. “Kapanen, sit down before you break something.”

Kappy sinks down into his seat with a guilty look.

“Sorry Willy,” He whispers like Zach can’t hear him.

Willy lets out a defeated sigh. Zach’s curiosity is piqued. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying the show, but what’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” They shout in unison. A few heads turn their way, curious, and Willy flushes. It’s horribly endearing and makes the blue of his eyes stand out more. Zach’s fingers itch with the urge to trace the warm skin, to see how far down it goes. 

“Bullshit.” 

Neither of them seem interested in adding anything further to the conversation though, Kappy going as far as to press his lips firmly together and turn pointedly away. Zach is a little worried about what this is all leading up to, but honestly he’s enjoying having Willy around too much to agonize over it.

::

In what, he is sure, is a surprise to  _ everyone _ they manage to overcome a three goal deficit and beat out the Lightning in overtime when Johnny manages to slide the puck top shelf a minute in. The locker room is a riot of celebration afterwards- two much needed points won from what had been looking like what was sure to be a humiliating loss. With the run of losses and injuries lately, they’ve needed this. 

Keefe promises to look the other way and let them celebrate so long as they’re all on the bus to head to Sunrise in the morning. Zach can imagine most of them are going to be nursing wicked headaches by then, sleeping through the short bus ride and crashing once they get to the hotel, but for once almost the entire team comes out afterwards.

There’s a few places they’ve frequented over the years, and they pick the one least they’re least likely to get recognized at. He can’t imagine Tampa fans are going to be the most  _ welcoming _ after the loss. The place is great though, lights turned down low casting an intimate aura over the whole building. It’s classy- padded booths set up, and filled, low tables with bottles set out and shot glasses ready to pour. There’s a bar along the far wall and a dj set up high above the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor. He can’t place the beat, but it’s catchy and he finds himself easing into the anonymity of it all. 

“Anyone wanna dance?” Tyson hollers to be heard over the heavy bass. 

“Drinks first!” Mitch shouts back. Zach ducks out from between them to save his eardrums. As it is, he knows he’ll be partially deaf by the end of the night. 

“I’m with Mitchy,” Willy glances Zach’s way and cocks his head towards the bar. He shrugs; there’s plenty of time for dancing, first he wants to unwind.

They do a line of tequila shots at the bar and then another. They manage to find a fairy classy bar and the first thing they do are tequila shots? Zach can’t imagine it any other way. Mitch and Willy get silly with the slightest amount of alcohol and when they go for their third shots, Mitch gets ahold of the salt shaker, refusing to let any of them use it until Willy lets him lick it off his hand. Willy goes along with it, making a face and laughing after, as Mitch complains about Willy ruining the taste. 

“You’re just not doing it right,” Willy scoops up the salt shaker but instead of reaching for Mitch’s hand, he grasps Zachs.

“Hey,” he protests as Willy quickly  _ salts him. _

“It’s for science, Zachy,” which doesn’t make a lick of sense but the two shots of tequila have done their job and loosened him up enough that he decides to just let Willy have his fun. Willy lifts Zach’s hand up to his mouth and that’s when Zach remembers just  _ why _ this is such a terrible idea. His lips are plush and red and his tongue is pink and wet and warm when it slips out, runs across his skin. His breath catches in his chest. He flushes as the slow drag against his skin lights up every nerve ending in his body. He’s instantly,  _ achingly _ hard. 

Willy’s gaze flickers up to catch his own, expression heated,  _ intense. _ Zach can’t look away.

It feels like it lasts a lifetime.

“You forgot something.” A shot glass, filled to the brim, appears between them suddenly. Zach jerks back, instantly reminded of Mitch’s presence. Face flaming, he steps back, lets Willy accept the shot and tries not to look too closely when his lips close around the lime after. 

::

Another win, another bar. This time they’re back home after a string of away games. It feels good to be back, to have the familiar sights and sounds surrounding them. Zach can remember a time when he would have gone home after so many nights away, curled up in sweats and put an old movie on. A time before Mitch and Auston and Mo. A time before Willy.

He’s never been able to say no to Willy. 

Sweat drips down his back, makes his shirt cling to him like a second skin. It’s hot in here, stuffy, a little damp, from the press of all of the bodies around them. He’s thirsty, a little sore, but still buzzing as he waves off the boys and slowly weaves his way off of the dance floor. A few wandering hands try to reel him in but he persists, excusing himself with a polite smile.

An arm around his waist stops him along the edge of the crowd.

“Come here often?”

The sharp retort dies on his tongue as he recognizes the voice, then the body that’s curled around his own. 

“Does that line  _ ever _ work?”

“Hey! I have  _ much _ better lines than that.” Willy slides a cool bottle into his hand. “C’mon.”

“Like what?” Zach can’t help but ask as he’s led away from the dance floor. The guys have a few tables, filled mostly by the few who don’t like to dance, or who aren’t drunk enough yet to attempt it. They pass them by, skirting along the edges and going unnoticed. 

“Like, what are the chances you’re picturing me naked?” Willy cocks an eyebrow at him, goofy, an amused grin tugging at his lips. Zach groans, although he  _ is _ picturing Willy naked now. The beers are making sure of that.

“That’s terrible.”

“That’s why you follow it up,” Willy’s grin turns sharper suddenly, more enticing. He steps closer and Zach’s back hits the wall; he hadn’t even noticed Willy had dragged him off to one of the quieter corners. The dim lighting doesn’t reach them as well, and everything is cast in soft hues. One of Willy’s hands rests on his hip and Zach sucks in a sharp breath at the searing touch, he’s certain Willy can hear. His eyes are dark, intent. His gaze drops to Zach’s mouth, briefly. “What are the chances now?”

Zach’s cheeks feel so hot they must be able to see his blush from across the room. Willy’s thumb slips under the material of his shirt, stroking against his skin. Each little movement sends shocks skittering across his body. 

Willy’s crowded in close, his big body blocking out the sights and sounds of the club. They’re of an even height but Willy’s bulked up over the years, and he’s using it now to press in closer, press in like this is  _ leading somewhere. _

Zach’s palms are sweaty where he’s clutching his beer, his heart rabbit quick in his chest. He opens his mouth to say something, but isn’t sure what.

“Hey!” Willy squawks. Zach nearly spills his beer as Willy squirms and then whirls around. Zach peers over his shoulder, somehow unsurprised to find Auston there with a big, shit eating grin on his face. His gaze goes to Zach and whatever he sees there just makes his smirk grow. He holds up Willy’s wallet, triumphant. “What the  _ fuck _ , Matthews?”

“Credit card roulette, Nylander. Don’t think we didn’t notice your card didn’t make it in.”

“I forgot,” Willy grumbles.

Auston shares an exasperated look with Zach. 

“Happens a lot, huh?” He glances between them. “So what are you two doing all the way over here?” 

“Willy’s sharing some of his pick up lines.”

Auston looks  _ delighted. _

“You never shared any of those with me. I thought we were  _ besties, _ Willy.”

Willy shoots Auston a poisonous look. Zach muffles his laughter around the neck of his bottle. He’s still feeling a little unsteady, like somewhere along the way they lost the plot, but he’s getting his balance back listening to the way his friends bicker.

“Why don’t you tell him one?” Zach suggests innocently- he’ll never miss a chance to chirp Willy. He’s certain Willy knows it too, but he keeps up his innocent smile and Willy lets out a huff, defeated.

“I haven’t figured out if you’re going to be the nicest boy on my naughty list or the naughtiest boy on my nice list.”

“That was  _ terrible,” _ Zach giggles helplessly. Willy shrugs, like,  _ well you asked for it. _

“Oh  _ William,” _ Auston bats his eyes outrageously. “I’d  _ love _ to be on your naughty list.”

“I need something stronger to deal with you assholes,” Willy mutters and leaves them standing there, snickering.

::

“I know you only want me here as mediator.”

“You’re here because I like looking at your pretty face,” Willy doesn’t glance up from the wine list he has propped up against his water glass. “Too bad he’s legal in the States now.”

“He’s not even here and you’re thinking up ways to torment your brother.” Zach, sitting to Willy’s left, steals the wine list away from him. “Think of all the brother bonding time you’re missing out on.”

“Are you saying we can’t  _ bond _ with you here?” Willy shakes his head. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Zachy. You’re  _ great _ for brother bonding.”

“Wow, that couldn’t have been creepier if you tried,” he scrunches up his nose. “What is this, a set up to a threesome?”

“Gross.” Willy tries to steal the wine list back, only to have his hand batted away. It devolves from there until they’re swatting at each other, over a candle lit table in Chicago. “Alex did have a crush on you for a while.”

“He did  _ not.” _

“I mean, he has  _ some _ good taste, I guess.” Willy manages to snag his hand. Zach’s expecting some sort of thumb war or nails being dug into his skin, because William Nylander  _ does not fight fair. _ Instead he curls them together on the table top and then they’re just. Holding hands. Zach glances at their joined hands, bemused.

“What are you, staking your claim before he gets here?”

“Maybe.” Willy winks at him. The light from the candle glints off his glasses. His hair is slicked back but a piece escaped while they were swatting at each other and combined with the light he just looks  _ soft. _ Touchable in a way he isn’t normally when they’re out in public. “When we get home, we should do this again.”

“Don’t you two look cozy!” Alex’s arrival puts an end to that line of thought. He feels a brief moment of irritation at the interruption but he doesn’t let the feeling stay with him, shaking it off and pulling Alex in for an easy hug. It’s been awhile, and he likes the kid, misses road trips to Buffalo with Willy to catch Alex’s games and drink his beer. 

“Willy, looks like you’re still balding,” Alex chirps, laughing as Willy flips him off. 

“I have a high forehead.” He scowls. 

“It’s worse when he has his man bun,” Zach mock whispers, conspiratorial. 

“You’re both assholes,” Willy grumbles as he waves the waiter over. 

Dinner consists of great food and gentle chirping. The brothers get along incredibly well, better than Zach and his own brothers, and they really don’t need him there, but he can’t deny he likes spending time with them. They get a bottle of wine for the table and manage to get through most of it by the time they make it to dessert. He’s feeling content with the friendly company and easy conversation, so he doesn’t think twice when Willy leans over and says,

“Here, you’ll love this.”

He has his fork held out with a helping of tiramisu and he’s looking expectantly at Zach, so he leans in and seals his lips around the fork. He  _ does _ love it; the dual flavors of the coffee and mascarpone explode across his taste buds and he hums happily. It might  _ actually  _ be better than the double chocolate brownie he’d ordered, thinking it would be a smaller portioned dessert and finding himself with a sweet the size of a small  _ plate. _

“Try this.” He scoops up some of his own and holds it out, watching with rapt attention as Willy all but licks the fork clean. There are some crumbs left on his lips that Zach is dying to reach out and brush away, to feel how soft his lips are, how plush. He  _ somehow _ manages to keep his hands to himself when Willy lets out a happy  _ ‘mmm’ _ at the taste.

“That’s really fucking good,” Willy says, eyeing the desserts. “Trade you for half?”

“Sure.” 

“Um,” Alex says as they’re making the exchange. His eyebrows have reached his hairline. “Something you wanna tell me?”

Zach glances at Willy and finds him already looking back.

“No?” He hazzards. 

Alex gives his brother a disbelieving look. Willy, amazingly enough, flushes. It paints his skin pretty golds and pinks. Zach quickly takes a bite out of the tiramisu Willy gave him to keep from saying something stupid.

“Aren’t you supposed to get wiser as you get older?” Alex mutters, reaching for the last dregs of the wine bottle. “I’m going to need more wine to deal with this.”

“Hey!” Willy seems outraged enough for  _ both _ of them, so Zach decides it’s just safer to ignore the brothers for the time being.

There are sweets to be eaten.

::

“Willy!” They’re out for lunch downtown with Mitch and Auston when Zach turns around and finds they’ve lost him. “Where the hell did he go?”

“Over there, dude.” Mitch gestures to the growing group of girls- late teens, early twenties, so  _ women _ really- that has appeared since they walked in. Irritation flares as he looks for Willy in the crowd. He’d been right  _ there. _ They’re shown to their table and Zach is forced to tear his gaze away before he can spot the familiar black tuque Willy had been wearing in defense against the chill in the air. 

“How does he get himself into these things?”

“Our boy’s hot,” Auston shrugs like he doesn’t attract just as much attention when they’re out. Zach’s surprised he’s not over in the group with Willy- it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve lost the pair. Mitch, leaning happily against Auston’s side to share his menu might be part of the reason for it. It’s always been a hell of a lot easier to keep him from wandering off when they’ve got Mitch with them. 

“Are you trying to say we’re not hot?” Mitch asks and Zach can see Auston mentally backpedalling. Mitch shoots Zach a quick grin and a wink. 

“No! Just, you know, Willy’s got that whole european thing going on.” 

“And that makes him hotter than us? I dunno, Aus,” Mitch makes as though he’s going to sit up but Auston is quick to pull him back into his space with an arm around his shoulders and a slightly panicked look.

“You’re hot, very,  _ very _ hot.”

“Thanks,” Mitch preens and Zach doesn’t bother hiding his laughter. “What about Hyms?”

“Gorgeous,” Auston tells him sincerely. 

“How’re you guys doing today?” The waiter’s sudden appearance scares the crap out of Auston. He flushes scarlet as Mitch and Zach break into peals of laughter at his expense. 

“Great,” Mitch manages as waters are set out on the table. 

“You boys know what you want?” The waiter asks with the kind of disinterest Zach has come to associate with the end of a day. That, and the slump of his shoulders and glazed eyes, tells him that it’s been a  _ long _ shift. He’ll be leaving a big tip. 

“Should we wait for Willy?” Auston cranes his neck, trying to spot their friend.

“I’m  _ starving,” _ Mitch whines, like he isn’t  _ always _ hungry. “Hyms can order for him. He knows what Willy likes.”

Zach shrugs- it’s not like Willy orders more than two different things off the menu. It’s cold out, he’ll be getting the chicken, instead of the salad. 

Their drinks and appetizers have arrived by the time Willy manages to escape, sinking into the chair next to Zach. Mitch, with his sharp eyes, spots it first, grabbing Willy’s hand and flipping it over to reveal the name and numbers written in black marker there.

“And who is  _ Tara?” _

Willy snatches his hand back, cheeks burning. Zach ignores the sickening jolt of his stomach, reaching for his water to settle it. 

“Women have  _ everything _ in their purses, I swear,” he grumbles, tucking his hands safely under the table. “A sharpy? A polaroid camera? I have my phone and wallet and  _ that’s it.” _

“If I carried around a purse I’d fit as much stuff in there as I could,” Mitch supplies. “And you’re avoiding my question.”

“Are you going to call her?” Auston asks, brows raised. He glances at Zach for some reason. 

“No!” Willy says quickly, cheeks darkening further. It’s horribly  _ endearing _ but even more so is the way he glances quickly at Zach. “I didn’t  _ ask _ for her number. She just grabbed my hand.”

“They all looked pretty cute,” Zach finds himself saying. “And you haven’t been on a date in ages.”

He kicks himself the second the words have left his mouth, but they’re out there now, out in the universe. His stomach flips unpleasantly and he reaches for his water again. 

“I don’t need to date,” Willy replies and his smile is real and warm but there’s something  _ intense _ about the look in his eyes. “You guys know Zachy is my  _ soulmate.” _

And he  _ knows _ it’s a joke but hearing the words light him up inside, have him ducking his head to hide his pleased smile. 

“Why can’t  _ you _ be romantic like that?” Mitch drapes himself over Auston dramatically. “It’s like all the romance in this relationship is  _ dead.” _

“Aw, baby,” Auston croons, cupping Mitch’s cheek. “You know you’re my person.”

“You stole that from Greys Anatomy,” Willy accuses and the pair break out into snickers. They don’t move to pull apart though, just continue to lean heavily into one another. Zach wonders if he could get away with it, press himself into Willy’s side. Willy dips his napkin in his water, scrubbing at the black marker on his palm. It smears, eventually starts to fade. 

“Sure you don’t want her number?” 

Willy scrubs harder until it’s an unidentifiable mess. He grins at Zach, something sweet in his smile.

“Nah,” he says. “I’ve already got the only number I want.”

::

They’re in Jersey at the tail end of a back to back when Zach drops his gloves. It’s been a slow game, both teams tired, neither scoring more than a pair of goals each. The second period starts and Wood crowds close.

“Wanna go?” Zach keeps his gaze on where Auston is lining up to take the faceoff. Wood nudges his stick against Zach’s. “C’mon man, lets get something started.”

“What,” he glances at Wood briefly. “So you can pull a penalty? Fuck off.”

Wood scoffs, knocking their sticks together again.

“Shouldn’t have traded Kadri, at least he had some balls.”

The ref drops the puck and Zach stops listening. 

The thing is- Zach  _ doesn’t _ fight to get shit started. He’s not an idiot- he knows guys who will drop their gloves to fire up their team; but that can lead to dumb penalties and goals that didn’t need to happen. Keefe is great at igniting a spark in the team and if they’re a little lackluster at times that’s on _ them. _

He  _ will _ fight when someone pulls something dirty.

Halfway through the period they’re on a line change when Wood comes out of nowhere and crushes Mitch awkwardly against the boards. Mitch is slow to get back up- he’s slighter than Wood’s thick frame but  _ resilient- _ but Zach is only dimly aware of it as his gloves hit the ice and he gets a good grip on Wood’s jersey. He’s barely aware of anything more than the red haze across his vision and the satisfying  _ crunch _ of his fist against his nose. He gets in a few good hits before hands grab at him, two more Devils jumping into the fray to help their teammate. He’s throwing fists and elbows but Wood is being dragged out of his reach and someone’s got a good grip on his jersey, tugging him out of the mess. The whistle is going, refs trying to get some semblance of control. 

“Fuck, Zach, if you break my nose too I’m going to be  _ pissed.” _ Connor Carrick has a fist bunched in the back of Zach’s jersey, slowly reeling him away from the fight. “Knock it off unless you  _ really _ want to get kicked out.”

Zach’s breathing heavily, but the red haze is lifting. He’s not about to knock Connor on his ass; he’s probably the  _ last _ person on the Devils Zach would fight. Wood is being led off the ice, the trainer trying to give him a towel for his steadily bleeding nose while he’s twisted around throwing chirps at Willy of all people. 

“Your team’s a bunch of fucking  _ pussies,  _ Nylander! What? Hyman needs his  _ boyfriend _ to come to his rescue?”

“You can thank my  _ boyfriend _ for fixing that fugly mug, Wood! I’ve never seen a nose that horrific; makes sense why you never get any!”

“Wow,” Connor sounds impressed. He’s dropped his grip on Zach and comes to stand next to him instead. Their shoulders bump. “First Willy jumps into a fight and then he tells Woodsy where to shove it? Looks like our boys all grown up.”

“Boyfriend?” Zach repeats, eyebrows raised. Despite himself he  _ is _ impressed with how Wood and Willy are going at it, now from their respective benches. A ref skates over and Connor taps Zach’s skates with his stick before heading for his bench. 

“You suck his dick so he’ll protect you?”

“Jealous?” Willy shoots back. Zach’s a little worried about what the mics on the ice are picking up. Thinking about the network trying to edit out the worst of the chirps makes him grin. “Make up your mind Wood- am I sucking his dick so he’ll protect me or is he a pussy that needs me to step in?”

Zach gets led to the box and the rest gets cut off. Despite the man advantage, the Devils don’t manage to score on them. They send out the second unit first so he spends his time watching the bench with a grin as Mitch joins Willy chirping the Devils ruthlessly. He can’t tell what they’re saying, but he can see it’s getting to them. 

Two minutes later he’s out of the box. The puck neatly hits his tape and he’s off.

::

“What time were we supposed to meet the guys, again?” 

Zach drags himself, with some difficulty, from his book at the question. It takes him a second to reorientate himself, blinking around as he takes in the open blinds and bright blue sky outside, his living room, and finally the feet in his lap. The long toes wiggle and he follows the surprisingly delicate feet up to bony ankles, sweats rucked up to mid calf and displaying hairy, tanned legs. His t-shirt has shifted, revealing a strip of smooth, golden skin. It’s January and somehow Willy is almost as tanned as he was when he strolled into training camp in August. Zach is  _ not _ jealous. At all. 

Willy’s phone is resting on his stomach as he peers at Zach- he’s slouched against the other end of the couch, propped up by the armrest. His hair is in a disarray like he’s been tugging on it absently, his glasses slipping down his nose. He’s soft and sweet and Zach is hit with a longing so hard it knocks the breath from his lungs.

“What?” 

“The guys,” Willy nudges his stomach with his toes, a grin spreading across his face. “What time did they say the movie was?”

“Um.” Honestly, Zach’s having a little trouble remembering at the moment. “Six?” He hazzards. It elicits a huff of laughter from Willy, sweet and warm. His expression is fond.

“Did you forget we were going?” He sits up but doesn’t pull his feet from Zach’s lap, just leans forwards and plucks the book from his hands, careful not to lose Zach’s page. “This must be a really good read.”

It is, but that’s not what has Zach so disoriented. 

Willy shuffles closer, tucking his feet under one of Zach’s thighs for leverage. It forces Zach to spread his legs a little wider. He gives in to temptation, resting his hand on one of Willy’s bare ankles, feeling how cool his skin is. 

“We could always tell the guys we can’t make it,” Willy says, without looking up from the back of the book. He likes how he says  _ we, _ like it’s the pair of them, like what Zach want’s, Willy wants. He wants  _ Willy. _

Zach glances at the clock on the wall. They still have a few hours left before they said they’d meet up with the guys, plenty of time to cancel. 

“Nah, it looked like it was going to be pretty good.” He runs his hand higher up Willy’s leg, feeling brave, until his fingers meet fabric. Willy’s gaze flickers up to his, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“We could ditch them. Go to a different theatre, just you and me.”

“Do I have to protect you from Kappy when he finds out we went without him?”

Willy laughs, his cheeks an endearing shade of red. 

“Point made. But uh, another time,” he says, gaze skittering away. “We should go see a movie, just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Zach squeezes Willy’s leg, drawing his gaze back to him. “We’ll probably need to see this twice anyways, you know how much the guys love to talk through it.”

They both glance up as someone rings his doorbell. For a brief moment he considers ignoring it, if only to keep Willy pressed so close. The doorbell rings again and he sighs, nudging Willy’s feet from his lap and pushing to his feet. 

Mitch and Kappy are grinning as they barge their way in with bags of takeout that smell strongly of garlic and onions. His mouth waters even as he follows after them, a mixture of confused and annoyed.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“We figured you weren’t doing anything interesting,” Mitch says as he deposits the bags in the kitchen and heads to the cupboard where he keeps his plates.

“And we were bored and hungry,” Kappy adds, pulling out the takeout containers. 

Zach’s stomach, the traitor, rumbles at the smells.

“So you brought lunch?” He surmises. There goes his quiet afternoon with Willy.

Speaking of, Willy wanders in from the living room, following the voices and his nose if the way he heads straight for Kappy and the bags are any indication. 

“Dude,” Mitch spots him, glancing between Willy and Zach. “Is this why you weren’t texting me back?”

“You mean you weren’t getting spammed with pictures of Za-” Willy slaps his hand over Kappy’s mouth. 

“Zebras!” Willy says loudly. “Giraffes. Lions. I was sending him pictures from the zoo!”

“I like zebras,” Mitch mutters. Willy uses his hold on Kappy’s face to drag him from the room. “What was that about?”

“Who knows.” Zach shrugs. He grabs the nearest container, popping the lid off. He’s too hungry to worry about how weird his friends are. “Think we can eat this all before they get back?”

::

“So, like, does this mean you guys finally got your shit together?”

Late in the season they have their final game of the year against Ottawa. A few of the guys elect to hang around the capital, opting to drive back the following afternoon to catch up with a few old faces. Both teams have the following day off- two more for the Leafs before a homestand. 

Brownie hands out beers like he’d been expecting a living room full of old friends, ordering take out from a late night Korean place he’s been texting Zach incessantly about for the past week. He takes the floor with Freddie leaving the couch for Zach, Willy and Mitch, the armchairs for Auston and Mo. 

“What?” Zach freezes with his bottle halfway to his mouth. 

“You two,” Brownie gestures at Zach and Willy, who, despite the size of the couch, has pressed himself close against Zach’s side, an arm thrown across the back of the couch. Humor flashes in Brownie's gaze. “You’re looking pretty  _ close.” _

Mitch bursts into laughter. 

“Hollsy thinks they’re dating,” Mo says. “I don’t want to destroy his belief in romance so I haven’t told him yet.”

“He  _ what?” _ Zach demands. 

“Jack asked if they were,” Freddie adds in. “He didn’t believe me when I told him they’re not.” Honestly, Zach thought he could count on Freddie to be the  _ sane _ one here. He feels so betrayed.

“We’re  _ not _ dating,” Willy says firmly. Zach glances at him and finds his cheeks beet red, his gaze anywhere but on Zach. 

“Anyways,” Zach clears his throat, heart hammering in his chest. “How long are you two going to do this long distance pining thing?”

Brownie squawks but doesn’t deny it. Freddie flushes, gaze averted.

A few beers in and they break out the CHEL, embarrassment momentarily forgotten. Brownie’s got a pretty nice place, two bedrooms, big living room, and a balcony overlooking downtown. He’s feeling a little warm from the beers, a little overwhelmed from the shouting as Auston and Brownie try to one up each other, so he heads out there. 

There’s still piles of snow on the ground, albeit few and far between and the brisk night air has him shivering. He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his sweater and leans against the railing taking in the sights. It’s quieter than Toronto, the lights a little dimmer. He doesn’t think anything can compare to home though. He wonders if it’s as disorienting for Connor as it is for him, to look out and see the low skyline, to miss the CN Tower.

“Hey,” Zach startles as Willy joins him, leaning against the cold metal railing. 

“Didn’t hear you come out.”

“I’m stealthy,” Willy shoots him a small smile. It’s dark out here, the light from inside just enough that Zach can make out the curve of Willy’s lips, the humor in his eyes. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Too hot,” he presses closer to Willy now, chilled. He can feel the warmth coming off of Willy through the thin layer of his sweater where their arms are brushing. 

“Are you drunk?” Willy laughs, eyeing him critically. 

“No,” he shrugs with a grin, the good mood contagious. “Brownie just keeps his furnace jacked up.”

“He totally turned it up to get Freddie to strip.”

“He  _ didn’t.” _ Zach stares at him, wide eyed. Willy gives in quickly, his laughter escaping.

“He didn’t. Can you imagine if he did though?”

“I’m telling him you said that.” He pretends to pull away and Willy reacts like he knew he would, grabbing at him, tugging him back towards the railing. He ends up with Willy’s arm around his waist, the other boxing him in against the railing. He feels strangely calm like this, wrapped up in Willy’s arms, the quiet of the city stretching out around them. Tucked up on Connor’s balcony, the night pressing in, their friends just a few steps away on the other side of the door, the moment stretches out before them. He feels untouchable, unshakeable.

“Wanna go on a date sometime?” The words slip out but he can’t bring himself to regret them, not even when Willy groans, dropping his head.

_ “No!” _

“No?” Zach waits patiently, bemused. Willy’s no certainly didn’t  _ sound _ like a no.

“I mean,  _ yes,” _ Willy corrects himself quickly. “But, did you have to ask?”

“Should I  _ not _ have asked you out?”

“I’ve been trying to ask you out for  _ ages,” _ Willy groans. “But shit kept getting in the way.”

“Would it make you feel better if I let you ask me out?” Zach asks, humouring him. The way Willy lights up at the suggestion is worth it. “Go ahead, try out one of your lines on me.”

He braces himself, and Willy doesn’t let him down when he immediately comes up with,

“Do you have a map? Because I got lost in your eyes.”

“That was terrible,” Zach laughs. Willy beams at him.

“Yeah, but it got you to laugh.” He squeezes Zach’s hip. “Okay, I have another one. You’re so beautiful you made me forget my pick up line.”

“How do these  _ ever _ work on actual people?” Zach huffs out between helpless giggles. He reaches out, rests a hand on Willy’s chest, marvelling that he’s allowed to. He can feel Willy’s heart beating rabbit quick under his palm- can feel the warmth and strength of him. 

“One more,” Willy promises. 

“You still haven’t asked me out.”

“I just want you to know,” Willy says, gaze intent. The laughter slips away from him. “That when I picture myself happy, it’s with you.”

Zach bites his lip, ducking his head. Despite the cold his cheeks are flaming. He feels unmoored, overwhelmed, but in the best ways.

“Also,” Willy adds quickly. “Do you wanna go see a movie this weekend? My treat. I’ll even rent out the theatre- just you and me, the back row all to  _ ourselves.” _

“Oh my god,” Zach huffs out an exasperated laugh. “You’re such a dork.”

“Is that a yes?” Willy grins and Zach can’t help it. He leans in, feeling Willy’s smile against his own. He’d say it’s a pretty good answer.

  
  



End file.
